A Day to Remember
by musubi7
Summary: Clay reflects on a day that shaped his, and the world's life, forever. Sept. 11th fic.


**Texas State University College Essay **

**Prompt: **

**_Discuss an event that changed your life. Be concise and clear. You have no page limit._**

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**"September Morning"**

Clayton Bailey

May 25, 2006

45-871 Rio Viste Verde Ave.

Andrew Jackson High School

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I was twelve years old when it happened, still innocent enough to believe there's always a clean cut between right and wrong. I was still naïve to believe everything was alright in the world. I was starting seventh grade and more excited than a barrel full of monkeys.

Those were the days.

It was a Tuesday, I remember that. Like any other autumn day in the southwest, it was a warm day: warmer than Momma's skillet after Sunday mass. It was still pretty early in the morning. See, if it was eight in New York, I'd say it was about five where I was. It's been a long time since I've thought about that day. I was younger then too; the mind is a tricky thing, it is.

I remember it was still dark when Daddy woke me up. Momma woke up Anna in the other room. She was only ten at the time, waking before the sun was an absolute no-no for her. She hollered all the way from her room to the family room. She was madder than…well, shoot, she was just pretty mad.

Daddy escorted me down the hallway. Momma tapped her thumbs together, trying to come up with something to say to us kids. It had to have been important; she only did that when she couldn't think of anything to say. Daddy put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and whispered something to her.

The dullness of the situation was boring me. I started to nod off. Anna, to my right, was dead-asleep. She breathed comfortably on my shoulder. I leaned back on the couch, trying to keep my eyes open. When were they going to say something? _I know it's important, but did you have to wake us up if you were going to still debate about it?_

"Kids, something happened today," Daddy said. I perked at the words and nudged Anna, who immediately came to her senses. She rubbed her eyes, still sleepy.

"But the sun isn't out yet," she said softly.

"I know, sweetie, but something has happened in New York," Momma said. She ran a hand through her hair, not knowing what to say next. I finally got a good look at my mother during this time. Normally, she's the strong, moral post in the house. Her face was normally bright and cheery with an embracing smile and a hot hand for the occasional whoppin'. However, in the dead of the night, the person whose presence used to bring a smile to my face, was sallow and sickly. I wondered, _what could make Momma so unhappy at this time_?

Daddy didn't look any better. The man whom I'd grown to respect and fear looked just as bad as Momma. His stark eyes had lost their sheen. His crows' feet wrinkles (a byproduct of two children, he used to say) stood out more in this light. He looked a lot more tired and a lot older.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Son…d'ya 'member that big, fancy buildin' I took you to when you were about five or so?" Daddy asked me. I nodded. How could I forget? It was the first time I had stepped out of Texas.

"Y'mean the New York trip? Memory's as sharp as a broken piece of glass on the highway." Daddy laughed at my analogy.

"Yes son, that one. D'ya 'member the really big building me and yer mother took ya to?" I scrunched my face, trying to remember exactly what it was.

"The Twin Towers?" I tried. Daddy nodded solemnly. This could _not_ be good. Daddy adjusted his pajama pants and cleared his throat.

"Momma, what buildin'?" Anna asked.

"We should just show them," Momma said to Daddy quietly.

"But Anna…she's so…"

"It'll be easier for you _and_ me," Momma said, her voice raising an octave, tears on the verge of leaking. _This_ was big. Not once in my twelve years of existence, had I seen my mother cry. She didn't even cry at sad movies that usually had Anna bawling her eyes out.

"Show us what?" I asked. I could feel my own courage wavering at this point. Daddy rubbed the back of his head, attempting to answer…either Momma's or my comment was beyond me at the time.

"Son, those towers were attacked," he said finally. Momma inhaled shakily. She was _really_ trying hard not to cry in front of us kids.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I thought of the building being attacked by a wild mob, like the Injuns attacked the British when they first touched ground on these here lands. I saw a sea of people holding pitchforks and torches, screaming at the business building, madder than a cat dropped in ice cold water.

Daddy moved to the ottoman and sat down. He adjusted his pant legs once more. He leaned on his knees, looking straight at Anna.

"Someone took control of an airplane. D'ya know what 'hijacked' means?" I nodded, Anna shook her head no. "It means that someone, or more than one person, decided to take the airplane sum-place else than it was supposed to go, d'ya understand that, Anna-bell?"

"Kinda," she said. She gripped my arm tight. "Clay, I don't like this," she whispered in my ear.

"It's ok," I said back to her.

"Someone took the plane and drove it into one of the buildings," Daddy said. I stopped breathing for about two seconds. I felt my whole body freeze. My heart did not beat for two beats.

"What?" I asked, not fully understanding/wanting to understand the statement. Why would someone drive a plane into a building? Anna gasped, gripping my arm tighter.

"Where there people in the plane?" Anna asked. Her eyes told me she didn't want to know the answer.

"Yes," Momma said, joining Daddy on the ottoman. "It was a full, commercial airplane." She let one tear betray her demeanor. Quickly, before anyone could see, she wiped it away.

"When did this happen?" I asked, regaining proper human functions.

"About ten minutes before we woke you kids up," Daddy said. "Aunt Marge, the city gal, you 'member her?" Anna and I nodded. "She moved to New York not too long ago. She and her husband…what was his name?"

"That's not important, Charlie," Momma snapped. "Aunt Marge called us to tell us what happened."

"So…they're gonna fix it…right, Momma?" Anna asked, twirling her hair with a free hand. Momma nodded.

"Yes. It'll be ok."

The phone rang, cutting through the night's silence. Daddy charged down the hallway, wondering aloud who would be calling at this time. He answered and was quiet for a while. He gave a short thanks and hung up.

"Jessica, turn on the TV," he said, coming back.

"Charlie…?"

"_Now_, Jessica," he said. Momma stood up. I handed her the remote. She turned it on.

"And as you can see here, _another _plane has gone through the Southern Tower. It seems to have entered through the back end, and the flames and debris have come out the front," a man said. He was about Momma and Daddy's age, with brown hair and glasses. He talked kinda funny, like he had bad false teeth or something.

"Oh my God," Momma said. The clip showed again. And again. And again.

"Momma…?" Anna asked. She retreated from the safety of my arms for Momma's.

The four of us watched the screen with no rest. We were silent through most of the explaining. When the image cut to the Pentagon in Washington D.C. being attacked, Daddy grabbed the phone and dialed quickly. His face was pallid and full of fear.

"Damn. Lines are tied," he said. He fumbled with the phone, twirling it. Momma gave him odd looks and asked him to try again.

"What, Daddy?" Anna asked.

"Yer cousin Rebecca works at the Pentagon," Daddy said.

We were quiet again.

Then _it_ happened.

"There's a huge pillar of smoke. We can't see what's beyond that smoke. There's this column of smoke, almost like a mushroom cloud. What's beyond there, it's hard to determine."

Then _it_ happened again.

"My God…there are no words."

And the Towers were gone.

That day, September 11, 2001, had changed each of us. America bonded together in a way it hadn't for a long time. We wore reds, whites, and blues for the upcoming months. We had a memorial at school for those who had perished. Our neighbors came over a few times to have dinner with us.

I tried to be a kinder person all around. I'd help Momma more often with the cooking. I'd help Anna with her homework when she needed it. I even helped Daddy a few times around the ranch when I could. I finally took those ancient chivalric words and put them into practice. Momma and Daddy started taking Anna and I to church again.

Now it is the eve of the fifth anniversary. Many other events have happened during my life to shape who I am now. However, it was _this_ day that impacted me the most. I've been taught to stand up for what I believe is right: justice, liberty, and freedom. I've been taught to cherish those who are close to me, and never take things for granted. I've become a humbler man.

I saw many friends, friends of friends, and relatives get shipped off to the Middle East to defend us and the West. Waving off my friend's older brother at the MAC terminal filled me with such pride and contempt. How I wished I was eighteen, instead of twelve. Had I been the correct age, I would have enlisted. I would have gone. She and I tied yellow ribbons around our trees. She wore a ribbon around her neck, and I wore a pinned ribbon. We wanted to show our support in any way we could.

It is with deep pain that I write this essay. Remembering that day isn't a pleasant trip down memory lane. I'd rather step into a lake full of leeches and snakes—and I hate blood _and_ snakes. Nonetheless, it was a day that united a country. It was a day that reminded us all that we are human and vulnerable to outside forces. It taught us that we can, and will, overcome all travesties on our soil and in our souls. It was a day that we grew as a nation, a community, a people.

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**AN:**

I'm beginning to see a pattern that the only fics I'll finish are XS one-shots. I haven't touched my Cardcaptor Sakura fic in ages. It's almost done, too. This fact makes me sad. emo-tear

Since today is the 5 year anniversary for the 9-11 attacks, I'd figure I'd take a stab at writing a 9-11 based fic. I've always wanted to write one. I'll probably write another one for another genre. Though it was a devastating time in the country, it is a fascinating medium to write. It's a chance to truly develop characters and mindset of the time and for now.

I chose to write from Clay's point of view because…well, Clay's predicament falls closer to my own. It would be awkward for me to write from say Jermain's point of view because I wasn't in New York and have never been to New York. Anyway, like Clay, I was a young child at the time of the event. I understood that something important was happening, but I wasn't quite sure what. I was also, as stated above, isolated from the event. At the time, I was in California...pretty far away from New York, right?

So, how did you enjoy my new style? I truly enjoy imagining that Clay is not a simple hick and will go eventually go to college. I've never seen a college essay prompt before, if you older kids can't tell already. I kinda based it off the prompts I get in APENG. They're near to nil, on essays about your opinion, about what to write and how to do it. Grr...it makes me mad.

I've got a scene in my head where Kimiko reads the first draft, quirky sayings and all, screams, and throws a thesaurus at Clay's head. That makes me giggle.

Does Clay really have a sister? The Net says he does, but doesn't give a name. Is "Jessie" just a fanon name, or is it cannon? If not, I apologize for the non-accuracy. As I've stated before: dead-pans I've not seen the entire show of Xiaolin Showdown, perhaps six episodes.

Oh, and the quotes…sorta quotes. The TV ones? Those are, from my memory (of this morning, I watched clips on YouTube) pretty accurate. The anchor on CNN covering the collapse and second plane crash was Aaron Brown. I was watching CNN that morning; therefore I have a bias against other networks.

So, as always, this is unbeta-ed in any way, shape or form. You may rip this apart to shreds if you truly wish. But praise is alright too. heh... .;

Hope you enjoyed.

God bless America and her Allies.

Let there be an end to the War on Terrorism.

**Kai**

_"Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better."_

_---King Whitney Jr._


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